


Man in Black

by shortystylee



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2018-10-29 15:47:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10857117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shortystylee/pseuds/shortystylee
Summary: They meet awkwardly, when Rey's grandfather gives her a record player and stack of Johnny Cash albums, and she's finally sick of listening to Folsom Prison Blues."Can I help you?"Rey looks up from the bin of records she’s pretending to glance through, and the employee who spoke to her is standing across the bin from where she is, in the other aisle. She instantly decides he looks just like the type of guy to work in a record store, if she had to imagine a stereotype, and she gets a better look at him as he walks around to the aisle where she is. Jeans that are leaving not much to Rey’s imagination, a dark grey V-neck t-shirt, and the hoodie, halfway zipped up, with the same logo she recognized from the sign outside the store. She’s telling herself not to stare, to play it cool, until she realizes that the stack of records she’s mindlessly pawing through are all gospel albums."Just browsing right now, unless you've got any suggestions," she says, looking over at the name tag hanging from a lanyard around his neck. "...Kylo?""That depends, what's your type?"Well, not normally you, Rey thinks, but I could make an exception. And I thought I came here to away from the Man in Black.





	1. Part One

Only three weeks were left until she was out of the dorms at her boarding school and flung into the real world. While most of her classmates kept going on and on about how excited they were to move home, Rey’s main source of motivation came from knowing that in three weeks she’d be moving in with Finn and Poe. It’d been the plans for almost a year, since Finn graduated. Rey would move into their second bedroom, promising both that she’d make sure that she was out of the apartment on their Friday date nights, _no problem there_ , and that she’d take one-third of the rent and utilities.

 

She wanted an iPad, as an early gift for her upcoming high school graduation, and she’d been dropping hints pretty heavily for a couple months now.

 

Instead, she got a record player.

 

“It should still work just fine,” her grandfather explained. She’d taken the train out of the city on Friday evening, her first time back to visit in weeks. “Tried it out myself this morning before I wrapped it. Oh, and here, you’re more than welcome to all my albums.” He handed her a stack of records that she quickly flipped through.

 

“Grandad, it's _all_ Johnny Cash,” she said. “Like, the entire discography.”

 

“Now, don't you tell me you've got a problem with the Man in Black.”

 

“Of course not, it’s just – “

 

“Besides, there’s some June Carter in there too.”

 

“Grandad!”

 

“I know, I'm just giving you a hard time. If my memory serves me, there's a record store downtown still, off 15th, I think. Just promise you’ll listen to Folsom Prison a few times for me before you buy a bunch of new stuff.”

 

* * *

 

 

Rey took the train back into the city on Sunday after dinner like she usually does after visits, except this time there’s record player and stack of albums on her lap, her backpack taking its normal spot between her feet on the floor. For the rest of the week she crams for her finals, listening to nothing but Johnny and June as background music. By the time Friday rolled around, all her tests were done and she was thoroughly sick of country music. The only assignment left was her senior thesis, but as a reward for making it through her finals, Rey pulls a twenty out of an ATM on campus and heads off towards the record store, not entirely knowing how much records even cost, and really hoping she’ll be able to come home with at least _something_ different to listen to.

 

The bells on the door clang together loudly as she walks in, and to say that she's overwhelmed would be an understatement. There are boards hanging from the ceiling, dividing up the store into genres, big band, jazz, rap & hip hop, classic rock, new wave... It went on and on. Under each were boxes upon boxes jam-packed with records, divided by alphabet labels and name plates. Mounted above the boxes were more records displayed on shelves, ones she assumes are kind of a big deal and vintage concert posters. She looks around, no clue where to even start, so she takes a couple more steps inside and begins to browse randomly.

 

"Can I help you?"

 

Rey looks up from the bin of records she’s pretending to glance through, and the employee who spoke to her is standing across the bin from where she is, in the other aisle. She instantly decides he looks just like the type of guy to work in a record store, if she had to imagine a stereotype, and she gets a better look at him as he walks around to the aisle where she is. Jeans that are leaving not much to Rey’s imagination, a dark grey V-neck t-shirt, and the hoodie, halfway zipped up, with the same logo she recognized from the sign outside the store. It’s not until he’s close to her that she realizes how tall he is, that he must’ve been slouching when he stood in the other aisle. She’s telling herself not to stare, to play it cool, until she realizes that the stack of records she’s mindlessly pawing through are all gospel albums. _Shit_.

 

"Just browsing right now, unless you've got any suggestions," she says, looking over at the name tag hanging from a lanyard around his neck. "...Kylo?"

 

"That depends, what's your type?"

 

_Well, not normally you, but I could make an exception. And I thought I came here to away from the Man in Black._

 

“I'm not really sure,” she replies instead. 

 

“Well, most of you J-Academy girls who come in here are looking for some sort of indie pop stuff, Walk the Moon, Fitz & The Tantrums. Maybe an old Biggie album so they can feel edgy.” 

 

She ignores his somewhat presumptive suggestions and asks a different question. "How'd you know I'm at J-Academy?"

 

It's entirely unprofessional, even for a guy who only looks a few years older than her and works at a record store, but he doesn't try to hide it at all, just looks down to her clean white Keds, then lets his gaze slowly travel up, past the knee socks with the little alligator embroidered on them, the blue pleated skirt she’s folded the up hem on a few times, white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled, and the matching tie she’d loosened on the walk over, landing on her face and latching on to her gaze. 

 

"I-Is the uniform that obvious?" She stutters out, torn between being feeling self-conscious of the uniform she wears almost every day, the nagging feeling in the back of her mind that he’s very much enjoying what she’s wearing, and the surprising feeling that she likes the way he’s looking at her and how it’s making her heart race in her chest.

 

"I went there up through sophomore year, then transferred to the city high school. So for me, yea, it's pretty recognizable."

 

" _You_  went to J-cad?"  _There is no one who looks like this at school now. I'd definitely have found them_. "Why'd you leave?"

 

"I thought you wanted record suggestions? I usually don't give out my life story to everyone who comes in the store, especially not before they’ve even bought anything."

 

"I do, it’s just… it's the best school in the city."

 

"Not for me it wasn't." He replies sharply, effectively cutting off that line of questioning, though not knowing the reason he dropped out was still nags at her. She was one of the lucky ones there on scholarship, _a charity case_ , she reminds herself. But she’s seen the numbers on their website, she knows how many apply and that there’s only a ten-percent acceptance rate. She might’ve been there on scholarship but she’d still had to pass the same entrance exams as everybody else, write the same essays, and impress the school board at the same interviews. There were families donating money for gymnasium and library additions in hopes of currying favor with the administration… and this guy dropped out? _Another time_ , she thinks. _Maybe there’ll be a better time to ask_. He continues again once he realizes she wasn’t going to talk about school anymore. “Now, would you like to hear any more suggestions, or do you like what everyone else usually does?"

 

"I don't really like what everyone else seems to, no... I was thinking maybe something a little older." _...or someone._  

 

He raises an eyebrow at that, and then turns, motioning for her follow him further back into the store. There aren’t any other customers at the moment and he starts going through aisles, picking up albums in a manner that seems random, occasionally glancing back at her, though she’s not sure if he’s sizing her up or just wants to make sure she’s still following. By the time they wind their way back through the bins, to the counter at the side of the store, about ten minutes have passed.

 

He hands her a stack of records, and she shuffles through them, looking over the covers quickly, recognizing some names, but she’s clueless on the majority. He’s leaning up against the counter behind the register, and she can feel him watching her reaction.  

 

“There's no way I can afford all of these. There’s gotta be like, ten or twelve here. I probably only have enough money for one, maybe two at most.”

 

“How about this…,” he starts, then goes quiet. Taking the stack back from her, he flips through them quickly, and divides them into two stacks, one much smaller than the other. He pushes what she assumes is the reject pile over to the other side of the counter, then grabs a pad of hot pink Post-It notes and a fine-tip black Sharpie, jotting down something on two of them and sticking the Post-Its to the back of two albums. Kylo hands four back to her and throws the pen and pad of Post-Its into a small bin on the counter. “You take those few, give them a listen, and if you absolutely hate them, come back later and we can figure something else out.” 

 

“And if I like them?” 

 

He shrugs, hands in the pockets of his hoodie. “Come back anyways?”

 

She hugs the records to her chest, the messy bun her hair is in bouncing slightly as she nods, replies that _of course I’ll be back_ , smiling at him quickly before she leaves the store.

 

He watches her leave and its only seconds before Phasma, one of his coworkers, comes out of the staff room from her break. “I didn’t know we were starting to give our records away for free. Don’t tell me that you’re starting to go all soft for a pretty face, Kylo.”

 

“What? That girl? I don’t even know how old she is.” _And that’s a lie_. She was wearing a dark grey pin on the pocket of her button down, like all seniors did at the Academy, and he knew since it was near the end of May, that she probably only had a few weeks or so left of school, finals right around now and then senior thesis work to follow. _Which makes her eighteen, most likely, and makes me not a creep, most likely._

 

“Oh, but you’re not denying that she’s pretty… I see.”

 

“Shut the fuck up, Phasma.”


	2. Part Two

She listens to the records as soon as she's back at her dorm room, leaving her shoes a mess by the door and flinging her backpack onto her bed. He’d given her four records, two full albums and two singles, to listen to. She was even happier now that the record player had a headphone jack. Rey spreads all four out in front of her, on the discount store carpet she’d lugged back to her room at the start of the year, and meticulously studies the art on the album covers. Running her fingers over the covers, she remembers how he’d walked through the aisles at the store with a distinct purpose, not needing to look up at the signboards to tell him what section he was in, just winding his way throughout the store, stopping abruptly every so often, long fingers deftly flicking through the bins to find whatever he was thinking of. It wasn’t a random grab from a rack of top 40 Billboard hits. She grew up listening to whatever her grandfather enjoyed, a mix of 50s and 60s country, bluegrass, and lots of John Denver, but she knew this was going to be different.

 

She sets the first album on the spindle, Meatloaf’s _Bat Out of Hell_ , enticed somewhat by the B-rate horror movie style scene from the cover and very much by the Post-It note which reads “ALL OF IT!” in capital letters with an exclamation point and three underlines. Grabbing the pillow from her bed, she lies down on the floor with her headphones on and just listens… and thinks. Thinks about Kylo from the record store and how he towered over her, thinks about his hair that could sell salon products when all he probably does to it is wash it every so often… and how it hides his ears that she noticed were a bit too big, how even though there’s a bump in his nose where it looks like it’s been broken before, that she doesn’t mind, thinking it only goes to add more to his story, to make him even more attractive to her.

 

Rey finds herself distracted by daydreams over the next week, all of them featuring a tall man with wild black hair and expressive brown eyes, handing her a motorcycle helmet and calling her babe, flying at breakneck speeds down dark, empty highways, leaving the tall buildings and ambient light of downtown Coruscant behind them, maybe driving out through the winding roads in Dantooine National Forest, or towards Naboo in the lake district. She can’t get anything from the other records out of her head either, and finds herself humming or halfway singing Tears for Fears’ _Head Over Heels_ in the hallways at school because, _goddammit_ , she realizes, _I am_.

 

By the time the next Friday rolls around, Rey is starting to worry if there’s actually such a thing as wearing out a record by playing it too many times. The other album Kylo gave her, Fleetwood Mac’s _Rumours_ , came with a note with two arrows pointing to two songs, Dreams and The Chain, and while she’s listened to the full album over and over, she can’t figure out if those two are actually her favorites, or if she just wants them to be her favorites because he specified them, until boredom gets the best of her one night and she types Fleetwood Mac into YouTube, then watches videos of late 70s concerts until 2am and decides she loves them all.

 

This week, the door to the record store is propped open with a large rock as a door stop, despite the fact that it’s at least 90 degrees outside. There’s a printed sign on the door in about 72-point font explaining that the air-conditioning isn’t working, and another note below it, in what Rey thinks is Kylo’s handwriting, which reads “ _yes, we know it sucks_.”

 

When she gets inside and catches his attention he’s behind the counter ringing up a customer, and he nods in acknowledgement. She walks through the store, waiting for him to finish up with the other customer, _someone who is at least paying_ , she thinks. Rey leans up against a support beam, and starts fussing with her tie to loosen it so she can undo a button or two on her shirt. She doesn’t look up or realize he’s watching her until she’s working on the second button down.

 

“Don’t mind me,” he says, one eyebrow cocked up and a grin starting to form when she notices him looking. “Just make yourself at home.”

 

Rey ignores whatever he’s insinuating, hoping that the blush she can feel overtaking her face isn’t obvious, that maybe he can’t really tell since she’s probably already flushed from walking all the way to the record store in today’s heat. “Well, it _is_ hot as hell in here. You’d think after spending half my life in Jakku that I’d be used to it, but nope, not anymore apparently.” She pauses, reaching around to grab a metal water bottle from a side pocket on her backpack, and holds it out towards him. “Speaking of the heat, d’ya mind if I fill up my water bottle somewhere?”

 

“God, Rey. Free records, now you want free drinks…” he says, rolling his eyes at her, but then he stills for a second and shakes his head when she sees the confused look on her face. _Alright, sarcasm meter is broken on this one_. He crosses the space between them and takes it from her hand. “I’m joking, shit. I’ll go fill it up in the staff room. Yell if anyone tries to steal something.”

 

He comes back a minute or two later, handing her back a water bottle full of cold water, and taking a sip from the coffee mug he also brought back with him. It’s different from the line of mugs for sale on the shelf behind the register, the orange and white mugs with the store’s name and phone number printed on them and the 45rpm adapter they use as their logo. Rey smirks when he puts his down on the counter and she can see the design, it’s a black coffee mug, of course, with white block letters – I Don’t Work Here.

 

“You’re not really going to continue drinking that, are you? It smells like burnt rubber and hot asphalt.”

 

“Unfortunately, I am.”

 

“But how? Especially when it’s this hot out. I can’t even imagine wearing black like you are, or even jeans for that matter.”

 

“It’s been a long day. I’m very well aware that this tastes like shit, but I need the caffeine and there’s no one else here to watch the shop if I leave to go to Starbucks or wherever.” He shrugs and takes another drink, actually grimacing this time when he swallows, as if it was a shot of tequila. “And you’re about the sixth person to comment on my outfit, I’m sorry, would you like me working in my swim trunks or something?”

 

She’s lucky she had already swallowed the mouthful of water she’d taken, or else Rey thinks she’d be choking on it with that image of Kylo in swim trunks floating around in her head now. The rational part of her brain realizes he’s being facetious, but the other part is throwing around images of him down at the beach she likes to go to with Poe and Finn, that black hair slicked back as he comes out of the water, walking towards the beach chair she’s sitting in and… _stop it, Rey_ , she tells herself. Her eyes do go wide, she can’t help it, and she can tell that he knows what she’s picturing.

 

“Again, Rey… I’m joking. We really do need to work on that with you,” he says, then changes the subject, asking her instead about her thoughts on the albums he gave her the week before.

 

“I think my friends at school are sick and tired of me humming _Head Over Heels_ for the majority of the week,” she starts. “It’s super catchy though, and it actually dawned on me about halfway through the week that I’d heard it before.”

 

“Oh? On the radio?”

 

“No, no. Donnie Darko, actually,” Rey explains, and he nods his head in agreement. “Tell you what though, Stevie Nicks is some kind of goddess, isn’t she?”

 

He leans back against the counter, a smug smile on his face, like he’s satisfied with himself. “That mean it was a good suggestion?”

 

“Amazing,” she answers. “I hate to tell you, but I don’t think either of the songs you pointed out are my favorites… and though Rumours was great, I managed to fall down the internet rabbit hole one night, looking at old pictures and live concert footage, and found one I like even better.”

 

“Landslide?”

 

She shakes her head. “Rhiannon.”

 

“Good choice,” Kylo comments.

 

“What’ve you got for me this week?” She hates to change the subject, even though she’s enjoying the little moment of comfortable silence and the way Kylo looks at her after giving his approval on her choice of favorite song, but she doesn’t have as much time to spend at the shop this week, her senior thesis is due on Monday and she told herself she’d just stop in really quickly this evening before heading to the coffee shop to get more editing done. “Anything in mind or am I gonna have to follow you around the shop like last week?”

 

Kylo squats down, opens a cabinet under the counter, and takes out three records. “It was a bit slow today, so I’ve already got them picked out,” he lies, knowing full well that he’d spent most of his free time over the last week wracking his brain to figure out this week’s suggestions. “Gotta admit, it’s kinda nice to have someone that’s a blank slate to give suggestions to. Kept second guessing myself, but finally was able to pare it down to three.” He fans them out on the counter in front of her. “Led Zeppelin’s Houses of the Holy, a Dire Straits single, and the Ramones’ self-titled debut album.”

 

He pushes the records across the sticker-covered countertop towards Rey, and she gathers them up, flipping one over and noticing more Post-It notes stuck on the back, highlighter yellow colored this time. “Are you sure you don’t need me to pay for these? Really, I’ve got some cash on me. And I start working in about a week, once I’m out of the dorms, so I can pay you back for last weeks and –”

 

“No, no,” he says, shaking his head at her and catching her hand before it goes into her backpack to find her wallet. “Don’t worry about it. Some of these are worth more than others and I can’t ask you to pay for the expensive ones when I’m the one suggesting them. That’d be kind of a dick move, wouldn’t it?”

 

A group of five or so comes into the store and she says her good-bye to Kylo, saying that one day she’ll actually pay for something, then making the excuse that he needs to actually do his job and she says she’s got to work on her senior thesis, neither of which is untrue. She’d more than love to stay in the store, but it feels like the deepest circle of hell today, so instead she heads out and goes to the coffee shop to study, since she knew it would have its air-conditioner blasting. It turned out that the weather was driving a lot more people than usual out of the heat and into the coffee shop, but she luckily ran into another girl from the dorms, whom she’d made friends with in her junior year trig class, and was able to squeeze in and share a table with her.

 

“You wanna catch the bus back to campus together?” her friend asks a couple hours later as she starts to gather up her things.

 

“No, you go ahead,” Rey replies, hitting save a few times just to be safe, and then powering down her laptop. She sees the albums in her bag when she opens it to put away her laptop, and she gets an idea. “I just remembered I’ve got one last errand to take care of before I head back.”

 

Ten minutes later, Rey rounds the corner to the record store once again. It’s eight-thirty, so only a half hour until they close. The door is still propped open with a rock and the box fans are still going, trying to circulate some air through. It’s cooled off a little bit since the sun has started to set, but it’s still warm in the store. She sees him when she walks in, elbows against the counter the register is on, bent over a MacBook covered in stickers. His face is slightly illuminated by whatever is happening on the screen, and he’s not paying attention at all to what was going on in the store.

 

“Kylo,” she says to announce herself when she gets a few steps closer. She’s either much more stealthy than she ever thought she could be, or he’s too fascinated by what he’s watching on the laptop and doesn’t hear her come in over the sound of the box fans on high, because he hasn’t noticed her at all and he startles when she says his name, visibly jumping, and loudly yelling something along the lines of ‘ _fucking_ _hells’_ before he notices that it’s her.

 

“Rey! You scared the shit outta me… we’ve really gotta get the air fixed so the door bells will ring.” He stops talking when he sees her holding out a very large iced drink to him. “…is that for me?”

 

She nods. “I was thinking you’d like something different than that swill you were drinking earlier. Go on, take it,” Rey says, still holding it outward towards him until he finally takes it, eyeing it somewhat suspiciously before he takes a sip from the straw. “It’s just an iced coffee, Kylo. Almond milk and two pumps of vanilla… I wasn’t sure what you’d like, or if you even normally would drink something caffeinated when it’s already so late in the evening, and I know it doesn't make up for the albums, but I just thought that…” She starts to drift off in her sentence when she realizes she’s rambling, eyes retreating to look at her feet, then snapping up to meet his as soon as she feels his hand cupping her elbow.

 

“It’s perfect, babe. Really.”

 

Rey’s not sure what it is at that moment that’s making her knees feel weak. It could be the oddly affectionate term of endearment he choose to use for the first time ever, or the heat she feels from his eyes as he peers down at her through the long hair that’s fallen into his face, looking at her like it’s the best present he’s ever received, or how the feel of his hand at her elbow is making her aware of how large his hands are and now she’s curious as to how they’d feel on the parts of her where she really wants them to be. _Or maybe I’m imagining this and it’s just really that I’m overheating_ , she thinks. Right now though it’s all too much for her, too overwhelming, so she concocts an excuse to leave, though it’s really the last thing she wants to do.

 

“I’m glad,” she says, looking up, smiling widely enough to show her teeth. He releases her elbow from his hand and she misses the scant contact right away. “But hey, I’ve gotta jet. _Someone_ gave me some records and I’m just dying to listen to them.”


	3. Part Three

Next Friday is Rey’s graduation ceremony, held in middle of the afternoon in the outdoor theater on campus. Her grandfather comes to watch her walk, as do Finn and Poe, but no one stays for long afterwards. It doesn’t bother her much though, she’ll be living with both of the guys soon enough, and she’ll see her grandfather again in a few days when he comes to help her move out of the dorm. The group went out for ice cream afterwards and everyone left for home straight from there, Rey insisting that she’ll be fine, that she has things to do. _Like loiter at the record store_ , but she doesn’t tell them that detail _._

 

It’s not that long of a walk from the ice cream shop to the record store, barely giving her enough time to gather her thoughts on the albums she’s been listening to for the past week. It feels almost like a book club, she thinks. I may have to start jotting down my thoughts as they come instead of minutes before seeing him. There had certainly been plenty of time for her to figure out her opinions on the three albums, used almost the whole week as background music as she finished up her thesis and worked on cleaning and packing up her dorm room. The post-it notes Rey had seen when Kylo passed the records to her a week ago turned out to be pointing out two songs on the Led Zeppelin album, and she decides she agrees with comment written below the arrow pointing out Over the Hills and Far Away. _Blown away the first time I heard this, hope you are too_. And she is. She listened to that song and the whole album loud enough that finally the dorm floor manager had knocked on her door and told her to quiet down. Rey wonders about the meaning behind pointing out _that_ song, especially mixed with Dire Straits’ Romeo and Juliet, and for a split second her mind entertains the idea that maybe there’s something else behind the album suggestions.

 

She laughs out loud at that thought, then silences herself when she sees a lady sitting at a bus stop giving her a strange look. _Don’t be silly. The majority of songs written are probably about either love or heartache anyways_ , she thinks, rounding the corner to the street the record store is on. _Besides, he gave me a third record and I don’t think the Ramones are what you should use to declare your feelings for someone._

 

XxXxX

 

It’s only the third Friday in a row, but he’s pretty sure they’re already starting a pattern. Kylo almost expects her to show up at the shop, hoping a little bit that she’ll be bringing another iced coffee for him, maybe even one of those chocolate espresso cookies he knows the coffee shop has, but what he wasn’t ready for is for her to come in dressed in her graduation gown. It’s an off-white color with a light grey hood, the same ones he remembers, and clashes a bit with her already tan complexion, but all he can think about right now is how this is the first ever time he’s seen her in something other than her Academy-issued clothes, even though it’s just a another type of uniform. The graduation gown flows behind her as she walks up to meet him at the counter, and he’s surprised at her height once she’s closer, until he looks down, noticing gold-painted toenails in a pair of terracotta orange platform sandals that are giving her about a good four inches more height than she normally has in the slip-on tennis shoes she usually wears.

 

“Got anything for me today?”

 

“Something special, actually.” He sees the way her eyes light up when he says that, and he quickly turns toward the other worker at the shop today, a shorter man making his rounds and putting away new releases they just received. “Hey, Thanisson, watch the front of the store for a while. We’ll be in back.”

 

His coworker shouts out his agreement from the other end of the store, and Kylo nods his head, motioning for Rey to follow him. He stops in front of a door at the back of the store, past the restrooms, a “staff only” signing affixed to the front of it.

 

“Am I allowed back here?”

 

“You’re allowed wherever I say you are, babe.”

 

_And there it is again_ , she thinks. She’d almost missed it the first time he’d called her that, after she’d handed over the iced coffee she’d bought for him. _Almost_. It’s funny how normally she’d bristle at such a name, shit… she doesn’t even like it when the lady behind the counter at her favorite takeout place calls her honey.

 

He flicks the light switch to the side of the door, holding it open for her to enter and then letting it close behind him. There’s no door stop to keep it open and the fact that it’s just the two of them hanging out in the small staff room is not lost on him, and by the nervous smile she flashed him when he held the door, he can tell the implications are not lost on her either. The room is supposed to serve as their break room, but really it’s nothing more than a slightly oversized supply closet with a water cooler, mini-fridge, coffee maker, and a couch that looks as if it’s the oldest, most Netflix-and-chilled upon thing that could’ve been picked up along the side of the highway. He has no clue where it actually came from and he prefers not to think too much on it. It’s a gaudy mixture of orange and avocado green plaid, with an Ikea-made particleboard coffee table in front of it, which always makes Kylo wonder why someone didn’t just do the decent thing and buy a new couch while they were at it.

 

He grabs a portable record player off a shelf and then walks over to a set of cubbies, takes two records out and then sets everything down on the table. When he turns back around he notices her, plopped down on the god awful couch like she doesn’t give a crap about where it’s been or what _those_ stains are, and it looks so weird to see that pristine white graduation gown against the garish plaid fabric. He sits down next to her, opening the top of the record player then looking back at her. “Why are you still wearing that graduation gown?”

 

Rey cocks her head to the side for a second, like she’s not sure what he means, but he can see the realization dawn on her. “Crap, yes. God, I don’t know how I forgot that I still had it on. The fabric feels like sandpaper,” she says as she stands. She moves her hair out of the way of the zipper, pushing her intricate braid back over her shoulder so it’s won’t get caught. Facing away from him, she unzips the front of the gown, shrugs it off her shoulder and lets it pool on the ground at her feet, then takes a quick step to the side and kicks it out of the way with her shoe.

 

If Kylo had ever been doubtful about whether or not he found Rey attractive, all of that doubt is thrown out of the window when she turns back to him. The dress she’s wearing is soft, almost delicate looking, and though it’s cliché as all hell, he thinks this is what that ‘takes your breath away’ feeling people talk about is like. It’s a light orange color that’s heading towards peach, with a plunging neckline and split sleeves. It reaches to just above her knees, the accordion pleats causing it to swing wide as she moves, and he’s all of a sudden he’s exceedingly happy that he’s the only one at the shop who’s seen her like this, not Phasma, or Mitaka, and certainly not Hux. He knows it isn’t, but he wants to think she’s picked this out with him in mind. _A guy can dream, right?_  

 

“Why didn’t you tell me it was your graduation today?”

 

She lets out a little laugh at the question. “Did you wanna come watch?”

 

“No.” _Yes_. “I didn’t even go to mine, but like you’d said before, four years at J-cad is a big deal. Maybe I’d have gotten you a present or something,” he says, shrugging as she goes back to her spot on the couch next to him.

 

“Really?”

 

“Yea, like a fancy coffee. Or a scone.”

 

“Whoa, hey, big spender.”

 

“You know it. Too bad I didn’t… though today’s record will work out pretty well with your graduation. You’ve seen The Breakfast Club, yea?”

 

“…Maybe?”

 

“God, I forget how young you are sometimes.”

 

“Oh, don’t give me that Old Man Kylo crap. You’re not that much older than me,” she says, leaning over and knocking her shoulder into his.

 

“I’m twenty two,” he replies, as if he’s only a few years away from senior discounts instead of forty more to go.

 

“That’s nothing. One of the guys I live with is almost twenty-five.”

 

“Guy you live with?”

 

“Yea. Well, there’s two guys, actually. A friend I met at J-cad and his boyfriend. So no reason for you to get all jealous on me.”

 

“I wasn’t.” _I definitely was_.

 

“Mmhmm. We gonna listen to this or not?” she asks, gesturing to the record on the coffee table, still in its cover. Kylo scoots forward, setting the record down on the spindle and handing the slipcover to Rey for her inspection. Simple Minds, Don’t You Forget About Me, she reads on the cover, and before the song starts, Kylo remarks that he thinks it was voted his high school class song, but Rey shushes him before he can say anything else.

 

“Is this really what you listen to?” The song ends and Rey sits up on her knees, twisting a bit to the right to face Kylo, and rests her arm on the back of the couch. “I think that’s what I’d like to listen to next. Something you actually like.”

 

He shrugs one shoulder up. “I haven’t given you anything that I don’t enjoy, it’s just not what I usually keep on heavy rotation. I’ve just been trying to gauge what you’ll like, but you’re pretty difficult.”

 

“How so?”

 

“Today is the first time I’ve seen you not in your uniform. Even when you dropped by last week on Saturday for that 45 converter. You work here long enough and you learn to read people. Clothes are usually part of that.”

 

She nods in agreement. “Still, I wanna hear what you’re into.”

 

“And I want you know what you’re really like,” he counters immediately.

 

“You can’t guess based on this? You don’t like it?” she asks, pouting just a little. She’s fishing for compliments and they both know it.

 

“What? Fuck, Rey…,” he starts, his voice trailing off as he pushes a hand back through his hair. He can feel himself starting to blush just thinking about what he’s about to say. “You look amazing, really, you do. But still, unless you prom songs and power ballads as your next recommendations, I can’t guess based on this dress.”

 

“Alright, alright. Fair enough. I’m all graduated now so it’s not like there’s any reason to wear that uniform anymore,” Rey says, raising her hands as if she’s surrendering. She lowers them, bending forward to undo the buckles on her heels, then tosses the offending shoes over to where her graduation gown. “Now, what’ve you got for me next?”


	4. Part Four

Another week passes and just like the last three weeks she makes her way to the record store in the early evening, though not in her uniform and of course not in the dress she’d worn the week before, but in an outfit that was much more _Rey_ , just like Kylo’d asked. _Only now he needs to not find out that I spent at least three hours this morning trying to look like myself_. By the time she needed to leave for work this morning, she’d pulled almost all the clothes back out of her closet… clothes that she’d only just put away and organized a few days prior, and tried on about fifteen outfits. She’d stuffed the final outfit she’d decided on in her backpack and wore her usual khakis and polo to work at the rec center, changing in the locker room and nervously redoing her hair when her shift was done. In the end, she decides she looks more like her personality feels, maybe a little grunge, a lot laidback, like all she’s missing is a longboard, _or a maybe a surfboard_ , she thinks, both of which she’d more than likely seriously injure herself on. The bells on the front door of the store loudly announce that she’s there once again, and Rey can’t figure out why she is so nervous to be around him not in her uniform. She’s put on ripped jean shorts and an extremely well-worn pair of Birkenstocks, a cut off tank top with huge arm holes that shows a bit of her stomach, with a black sports bra underneath. Her hair is loose, falling in waves down her back, save for one section that she’s braided and wrapped over the crown of her head like a headband. Slung over her right shoulder is a patchwork purse that looks like she sewed it together herself, and there’s a pair of Wayfarer sunglasses hanging from the neckline of her shirt. She’d left her backpack in her work locker, figuring she could just wear the same uniform clothes again next shift.

 

Kylo walks through the aisles to meet her, and he looks at her, eyes wild and excited, gaze going head to toes and back again, the same way it did the first day they met. She minds it even less than she did then, and she feels almost like that scene near the end of Grease, when Danny sees Sandy in her sexy outfit for the first time.

 

“Alright, now this I can work with.” He runs a hand through his hair and bites his lower lip into his mouth, thinking. “I’ve got it.” For a moment she thinks he sounds like the host of one of those makeover shows her friends at school watched, right before they throw everything in the poor person’s closet in the trash.

 

“Got what?”

 

“I know what records you’re getting.”

 

“You’ve seen me for not even a minute, and you think you’ve already got me figured out?”

 

“We’ll see, won’t we, babe…” He looks her up and down again, then tells her to stay put before walking off on his mission.

 

She doesn’t exactly stay put, but walks over to the counter when she notices that Mitaka is also working. She’s seen him a few times, running in to grab his check he seemed to forget each week, but never working that shift. It doesn’t immediately register in her mind, but when it does she realizes that it seems a bit unusual for a Friday night. She looks over at Kylo and see that he’s not dressed how he usually dresses for his work shifts. There’s no store-issued hoodie, although that could be because it’s the middle of June and he’s finally figured out that it’s possible to dress for the weather, but somehow she seriously doubts that. She watches him turn a corner, over to a different section and she notices he doesn’t have his lanyard nametag on either. He’s wearing slate grey jeans, tight on his thighs and a bit bunched up at the hems where they end at a pair of well-worn black Converse, and a white T-shirt with black line-work down the front that looks like a stylized mountain range.

 

“Are you working tonight?” Rey asks when he walks back to the counter, three records in tow. “You’re not wearing the hoodie or your nametag.”

 

“No, not tonight. I covered for Mitaka last night so he agreed to take over my shift tonight,” he explains. “I really just showed up since you said you’d be here… and I’ve got no other way to contact you.”

 

“I have a phone, ya know. We could remedy our lack of contact issue.” She knows she sounds like she is proposing a business venture, but Mitaka is _right there_ and she doesn’t particularly want to try and flirt as obviously as she normally would.

 

“Agreed,” he says as her stomach growls loudly. “We could, um, remedy that too. If you want.” _Since when am I nervous around women? Oh, that’s right. Since her, about three weeks ago, when I aged backwards from 22 to 13._

 

“Could we? I haven’t eaten anything except a protein bar since breakfast… and I think it was stale,” she says, trying to push down all of the excitement that creeps into her because this is probably the closest she’s ever going to get to a date with him.

 

They chat about her new job at the rec center on the walk to dinner, how she gets an unexpected workout each day because no one can seem to re-rack any weights or put any equipment away, and that the rest of her day is spent either behind the front desk or in a refilling the paper towel holders and spray bottles of disinfectant near all the exercise equipment. _At least that means people are actually cleaning things_. She follows his lead to some Corellian deli that Kylo says is the best this city has to offer.

 

“You’re in for a treat then, babe,” he replies when Rey says that she has never heard of the place. “My dad used to say you weren’t a proper resident of the city until you’d eaten there.”

 

“Can I ask why you call me that?”

 

“Babe?” he asks, and she nods. “…It’s not obvious?”

 

She looks up at him next to her and thinks she sees some meaning in the way he’s looking down at her, but laughs it off instead. “Hah, real funny. I bet you just call all the girls that.”

 

“Well, I tried it out on Phasma once and she almost clocked me.” _She would’ve too_ , Kylo recalls, _if I hadn’t grabbed that first pressing of The Beatles Revolver album to hold up as a shield_. “Do you dislike it? I can stop if you—“

 

“No, god, no. It’s nice. Just… not something I get called much, is all.” Rey looks up at him, an earnest look on her face so he knows she’s not lying. He wants to tell her it’s a goddamned tragedy, and that he’d make sure she knew exactly how stunning she is, but he also doesn’t want to scare her away before anything has started and he’s just finally getting to know her.

 

They get to the deli shortly, ‘babe’ conversation completely forgotten as they’re greeted at the door by the lady behind the register, and Kylo tries to help Rey navigate through the enormous sandwich menu. She settles on the #12, a turkey and roast beef sandwich called the Kessel Run, and he gets the #77, something called the Falcon. She was worried it’d be awkward to make conversation with him outside of the record store, but it’s easier than she’d thought. He’s just graduated from the same university in the city that she’ll attend this fall, not even close to the same major though, with her going into industrial design and his degree in graphic design just arriving in the mail this past week. When they’re about finished and server brings their cards back, Kylo still has his last bite of sandwich in his hands, and the server hands both to Rey.

 

“Okay, this one’s mine… Rey Kenobi,” she says to herself, but loud enough for him to hear. She quickly writes a tip and scribbles her name down, then passes the pen across the table. “You know, I don’t think know your last name, Kyl—,” she stops abruptly, looking down at the shiny silver debit card in her hand. “Ben Organa-Solo? As in…?”

 

“Guilty as charged. Guess you know my big secret now,” he deadpans, but Rey isn’t sure if he’s joking or not.

 

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” she starts, handing his card back to him quickly as the fear that she’s somehow really fucked this all up before it really began. “I – I didn’t mean to and I won’t call you—“

 

“What?” He looks up at her as he puts his card back in his wallet, completely unsure of what’s wrong. “Rey, of course you can call me Ben. Kylo’s just a dumb nickname.”

 

“So you’re not trying to distance yourself from your parents? I mean, your mother is pretty high profile in the Cabinet and…”

 

“No… distance myself? We have family dinner every Sunday, usually my uncle and a bunch of my dad’s old racing buddies show up too.” He gives her a confused look from across the table, but looks down for just long enough to sign the bill before he continues. “Okay, I’ll explain. You don’t really think that everyone at the store just happens to have a weird ass name, do you?” he asks as he stands, returning his wallet to the back pocket of his jeans.

 

“Well, it is a bit of a coincidence.”

 

“The four of us all play this RPG game online and those are our player names… we all got trashed one night and Phasma suggested we all put them on our name tags the next day at work… and it kinda stuck.”

 

“Oh. That’s… super dorky actually, Ben.”

 

“Yea, it is,” he laughs. He wishes now that he’d just told her his real name when they met so that he could’ve enjoyed hearing her say it for the last three weeks. “I’m sorry it’s not more interesting than that. No secret identities here, just a dorky guy whose mom is in the spotlight and whose dad won a couple Indy car races ‘bout twenty years ago.”

 

They start to walk back from the restaurant, and Rey points out that there’s a lot more people out now than there usually are, but Ben just chalks it up to a warm Friday evening in Southtown, until they turn the next corner. The adjacent street and square next to the park are all blocked off and traffic is barricaded away, and the streets are packed with people. There’s a jazz band playing somewhere and Rey starts to look around, trying to find where the smell of roasted almonds is coming from.

 

She nudges Ben with her elbow when they stop walking to wait at an intersection, then gestures at all the commotion. “You know what’s up with all this?”

 

“Southtown Summerfest,” he groans. The look on his face is almost the exact opposite of the look of excitement on Rey’s face. “It’ll be like this every night for the next week or so.”

 

“This is where Summerfest is?” she asks, eyes lighting up as she quickly looks up and down the crowded street. “Do you care if we go in for a sec? I wanna grab a schedule for my roommates. They’ve been talking about it non-stop. I didn’t realize it was this close to the store.”

 

“Sure,” he replies, and they find one of the openings in the barricades and begin their way through the crowd. It’s not his thing – crowds, mediocre street performers, carnival food – but he’s not going to tell her no. She sees a worker at an information desk and walks over, telling Ben she’ll just be a moment. He watches her hurry over, taking the pamphlet that the older lady offers, and he wonders what the worker could possibly be saying to make her get so excited.

 

“So you’ll never guess what movie is playing on the lawn tonight,” she says, beaming when she comes back to his side.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“The Breakfast Club.” She looks down at her feet for a moment, then looks up at him, wide-eyed and flashing a huge smile.

 

“You wanna stay?”

 

“Do you? I sort of have an agreement with my roommates that I don’t come home this early on Friday evenings, so that I don’t, um… interrupt their date night… _activities_ ,” she tries to explain and sees the acknowledgement of her words immediately across his face. “The lady said it’s playing in the park around the corner in fifteen.”

 

“Sure. It’s a good chance to get you some culture,” he says. He doesn’t think he had any plans that evening, and if he did, he’s more than willing to blow them off to spend more time with Rey, even if that time is just sitting and watching a movie he’s watched more times than he can count. “I _still_ can’t believe you haven’t seen it.”

 

“Alright, alright, I get it. Now, let’s go get some of those roasted almonds I can smell and get a good spot on the grass.”

 

They’re waiting in line at the roasted almond vendor, when a young girl walks up to Rey, and asks if she wants to buy one of the flower crowns she’s made. “Oh, no thank --” she goes to say, but then Ben interrupts.

 

“Sure.”

 

“Sure?” Rey asks, head whipping up to Ben, who’s already got his wallet out.

 

“Yea, sure. What the... heck?” he says, mildly censoring himself in front of the young girl, then he goes down on one knee to be on the same level as her. “One flower crown, please.” He holds up one finger, as if he needs to make sure she knows he doesn't also want one for himself.

 

The girl smiles, a gap-toothed grin brightening her face, her mother watching as she counts the money Ben hands her, giving him his change back, then asking what color he wants. She keeps referring to him as ‘mister,’ and he sees Rey trying not to smile too much at that, seeing as the girl has obviously been instructed on her manners. He thinks on it for a moment, then points to one with orange and white flowers, a piece of golden fabric woven through them to hold it all together, and the girl hands it to Ben, thanking him again before heading off with her mother to use her cuteness as a sales tactic on another customer.

 

They’re next in line at the food stall now, and Ben sets the flower crown on Rey’s head as she’s paying, trying to figure out how to use the two bobby pins that are stuck to it, without messing up the braid she’s done herself.

 

After getting snacks, she follows him to a spot on a hill near the back of the grassy field, pleased to be able to see the screen even when sitting cross-legged. It was warm earlier that day so the grass is dry, and there’s enough warmth still in the arm that she’s still comfortable in her tank top. He sits down next to her, cross-legged to match but his legs are longer, making his knees knock against hers as he gets comfortable. The movie starts and Rey begins to fuss a bit with the flower crown, adjusting it on her head. Ben leans over and grabs her hands, placing them back down in her lap. Either it’s too dark for him to see the wide-eyed look she’s got on her face, or he’s ignoring it. He re-pins both the bobby pins quickly, then whispers, “There. You look perfect, now watch the movie,” before he returns to his spot, laying back on his elbows and stretching his legs out in front of him. Rey’s trying to pay attention, trying to read that David Bowie quote on the screen, but all she can think about is how he said that _she_ looks perfect, not that _it_ looks perfect. _Semantics, Rey_ , she tells herself, _now watch the damn movie he likes so much._

 

XxXxX

 

“I bet you think you're Bender, don't you?” Rey asks, breaking the silence as they walk away from the festival. It's not an awkward silence at all, but she finds herself curious. She thinks most people probably think of her more like Claire, but she feels like Alison more often than not.

 

“Me? Rey, have you not been paying attention?” He looks down at her incredulously as they walk, but she doesn’t look up to notice. “I have a nickname based on a video game, I work at a record store... and did you not recognize all the Marvel stickers on my laptop?”

 

“I did, but that stuff is cool now. Even I've seen those movies,” she says with a shrug.

 

“ _Now_ it's cool. Guys like me got the shit beat outta them by guys like Bender at J-Cad. Didn't help that Headmaster Skywalker is my uncle.”

 

“Is that why you transferred?” Rey asks. She’d put two and two together about his uncle being headmaster when she saw his name on his debit card earlier.

 

He nods. Its dark out but there's plenty of light from the streetlights and shops that are still open that she can see him nod without straining her eyes. “It was a helluva lot easier to blend in at the city high school. I was just the crazy tall new kid who liked comics and looked like I lived at Hot Topic. I wasn’t the son of a popular senator, who was only at the Academy because of my Uncle, or my family’s money, who didn’t deserve to be there, who probably didn’t even pass the entrance exam… and don’t ask, I did pass it.”

 

“I wasn’t going to ask,” she replies. She knows that even the students there by virtue of large family donations were still subject to the grueling entrance examination and interview process.

 

They continue the few short blocks and eventually end up back at the shop, since neither of them know where the other lives, and without thinking Rey blurts out that she doesn’t really want to go home yet.

 

“You think you’re still sexiled?” he asks. There’s a wooden bench in front of the record shop, so he sits and she joins him.

 

“Maybe? That’s not all of it,” Rey admits. “I dunno, I’ve just had more fun this evening than I have in a long time, what with finals and my thesis and then moving. If I get up and walk home, then the night’s over.”

 

“You don’t have to go home, ya know?” Rey looks up from her lap to look at Ben next to her. _Oh, god, invite me to your place? Please?_

 

“I don’t?”

 

“You said you wanted to hear what kind of music I really listen to,” he starts, picking up his messenger bag off the concrete and pulling out a pair of earbuds from a side zipper pocket. “I would suggest listening to what I gave you earlier, but the boss gets all bent outta shape if we go in the shop after hours, so you’re stuck with my music.” He puts one in his left ear and holds the other out to her. “Well, come on, gotta scooch closer if you wanna listen.”

 

She takes the right headphone and puts it in her ear as she moves closer to him. His arm goes around her, and her thigh and shoulder are pressed into his, and it’s not lost on her that the only way she possibly be any closer to him would be if she climbed into his lap. She looks over and see him searching through the music on his phone. “I’d say this won’t be anything like what you listen to, but I’ve got no idea what you actually like.”

 

“I grew up listening to old country stuff, bluegrass, mostly stuff that my Granddad likes and always had playing around the house.”

 

“Did he not let you listen to other music?” he asks, still swiping around on the phone.

 

“What? No, no. I was just content, I guess. It wasn’t _all_ country, there was always lots of Dylan, Joan Baez, Willie Nelson, that kinda of stuff.”

 

“Sounds like he was setting you up to be the protagonist in a Kerouac novel.”

 

“Maybe. On the Road, the Rey Edition,” she says, internally happy that her literature teacher assigned that book last year so that she didn’t have to pretend like she knew what he was referencing. “I know some other genres too, and I really like CCR and Bob Seger.”

 

“Hollywood Nights?”

 

“Running Against the Wind.”

 

“Somehow, Rey, that makes sense,” he says, looking over at her for a split second before back to his phone. “Here, found it.”

 

Ben presses play on his phone and sits back further on the bench, Rey following his lead since they’ve got the short earbud cord connecting them. She’s got no clue who she is actually listening to, Ben didn’t actually tell her. It’s some man with an honest voice and an acoustic guitar singing about the man who sold the world, and to be perfectly honest, she doesn’t care. It’s almost midnight on a beautiful, warm summer night, she’s sitting outside with the guy she’s enamored with, sharing headphones, and he’s got this arm around her, tapping out the guitar melody on her shoulder. _Perfect_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, thank you for all the likes and comments!
> 
> The song at the end is The Man Who Sold the World, the Kurt Cobain unplugged version. You'll find out Kylo/Ben's suggestions for Rey next time around.


	5. Part Five

“Rey-Rey?" There's a knock on her door and Poe's voice calling from the other side.

 

"Hmm?" she answers, looking up as her door slowly opens, Finn and Poe both standing there. She reaches over and turns the volume down on the music. It's one of the albums Ben recommended a week or two ago. She’d gone back to the shop after her first paycheck came to try and actually purchase the album, but Ben refused to take her money. "What's up, guys?"

 

"Not much, we were both in the living room, enjoying your music with you," Finn says.

 

She inhales sharply, not having realized how loud the music was. Finn smiled as he spoke, but she wasn't certain if he was just trying not to be rude. "Sorry, guys. I'll keep it turned down."

 

"It's fine. It made us realize it's been quite a while since we've had some roomie time."

 

"I've only lived here two weeks."

 

"And that's way too long. Come on, turn that down and we'll catch up a bit," Poe suggests. He and Finn both grab extra pillows off Rey's bed and sit on the floor across from her. "What've you been up to during our date nights? I hope you haven't been too put out."

 

She tells them how she's been spending part of her Friday evenings at the record shop, that she's made friends with Ben, one of the guys who works there, or, at least, that she _thinks_ they are friends. 

 

Poe gives her a look she knows means he's feeling bad for her. "Are you sure he's not just being nice to you because you're a customer, and that's how good customer service works?"

 

"He really doesn't seem like the type to care about a quality customer service experience, he's a bit..." _Abrasive? No, that’s not quite right..._ "Brooding. Awkward, at times."

 

"Still, I talk to the barista at Starbucks and we aren't exactly what I’d call friends, kid. Not even when she gives me extra caramel."

 

"Well, I'll have you know," Rey starts defensively, not entirely certain why she's getting upset, “We got dinner together the last week and ended up watching a movie at the summer fest thing downtown. How’s that for friends?"

 

"What? How have we not heard about this yet?” Poe grabs the edges of the pillow he’s sitting on and scoots closer to Rey. “You've got a mad crush on him, that's why you've been listening to all these schmoopy songs. Where did you find some of these anyways? Look up 'sappy 80s love songs' in Google?"

 

"I didn't pick these out. He's been giving me these as recommendations since I first went in there, and if that's the case, it means he likes me and that's just... _no_ , that’s just silly," she says, laughing heartily at first, and then stops as she realizes that both Poe and Finn are looking at her as if they don't think that's impossible. 

 

Finn asks her gently to bring over all the new records she has, and they spread them out in front of their group on the floor, and the boys start to go over them with her, the song choices, overall mood, especially the ones with the Post-It notes _still_ stuck to them. They're not even halfway through when Rey starts to believe it's true, that he has been trying to tell her something. 

 

"Holy crap, guys,” she says after a few minutes. “He likes me."

 

"Well. Yes. I mean, one of the first ones he gave you was _Head Over Heels_... it's in the title of the damn song."

 

"I realize that now, Finn, thanks,” Rey says. “It's Thursday and I'm going to see him tomorrow like I always do… and now I know that he... what am I supposed to do with this?"

 

"Could just walk on in, grab him by the collar and kiss him, other customers be damned," Poe suggests, reaching over and grabbing Finn’s collar, pulling him a few inches closer, but stops, letting go when he sees the nervous look in Rey's eyes. "Or...hah! I've got it. This'll be incredible. Finn, love, would you go grab my laptop?" Finn jumps up and heads to the living room, quickly returning with Poe's laptop.

 

"What's the plan?"

 

"He's been suggesting these songs to you for weeks, telling you how he feels, not really being subtle, if you ask me. So tomorrow, you're gonna have something for him to listen to."

 

XxXxX

 

She walks up to the other store clerk, one she's not seen before. She's easily the same height as Ben, probably taller even, with short blonde hair, black leggings, and a shiny silver blouse. Her name tag reads Phasma, and Rey has to stop herself from asking how her video game time with Ben is going. 

 

“Can I help you?”

 

“Um, not really. I was just wondering if Kylo was working today?” she asks, using his nickname in the store since it feels weird not to, especially since while she doesn’t know this woman’s first name, she knows it isn’t Phasma.

 

“It’s just me right now, but he should be in at five,” she explains. She continues her slow walk, picking up records that people have discarded in the wrong places. “I’m sure I could help you with whatever you’re trying to find.”

 

“It's not that, it's just... I have something for him. A record, I actually grabbed it from the bin over there,” she says, pointing, but feels the need to explain more when she sees the tall women raise an eyebrow at her. “Okay, I know it seems dumb, getting records for someone who works at a record store and all, but –“

 

“Hold on a sec,” Phasma interrupts. “Are you Rey? You are, aren't you?”

 

“...yes.”

 

Phasma stops for a second and looks around the store, going up on her tip-toes even though she doesn’t need to. “Go on then, through the staff only door. There are some cubbies in there where we put our things during shifts, just set those in Kylo's.”

 

She nods and goes into the staff room, not bothering to tell Phasma that she’s been in there before, wearing a fancy dress and listening to records with Ben during his shift. She leaves the single in the empty cubby labeled Kylo, the same messy penmanship as on his name badge and the notes he leaves on albums for her. The cubby next to it is also empty, labeled Hux in neat cursive, then Phasma's in simple capitals, Mitaka’s printed exactly the way she was taught in elementary school, and Thanisson’s name was printed using label maker. 

 

“Will you tell him that they’re from me?” Rey asks when she comes back into the main area of the store.

 

“Oh, he’ll know, but I’ll tell him anyways.”

 

“Thanks, Phasma.”

 

“It’s Gwen, actually.” She’s got a bit of an embarrassed smile on her face, and Rey wonders if Ben and whoever Hux is picked that nickname for her, or if she made it up herself. _It certainly seems to fit her._

 

“Gwen,” Rey replies back in confirmation, before righting her backpack and heading out, the same obnoxious bells ringing loudly as she leaves.

 

XxXxX

 

She knows she shouldn't come by the store that late, so close to closing, but she can't help it. _Well, literally_. She'd been walking home from her regular coffee shop she reads at, when the sky just opened up, rain pouring down harder than she’d seen it yet that summer. It only started a block or two before the record store, but by the time she’s inside she looks like she’s jumped in a pool.

 

“We close in like five minutes, just FYI.” She recognizes his voice yelling from somewhere inside of the store as she continues to walk further inside. Rey sees that he’s behind the front counter, hunched over in front of his laptop. She’s completely soaked, and it’s one thing to deal with wet jean shorts and a newly transparent t-shirt, but her ankle socks and Chuck Taylors are a whole different monster. It wasn’t as noticeable as she was running down the sidewalk, but they’re squishy wet and making gross noises, so she takes them off and leaves them, along with her socks, on the floor, continuing on until she’s just a few feet away from the counter.

 

“That apply to me too?” she asks, and he finally looks up to see who’s in the store.

 

“Rey. You’re soaked.”

 

“It’s pouring out.”

 

“I can see, it looks like you jumped in a lake. But no, you don’t need to leave, you’re practically on the payroll by now.” He unzips and pulls off the store-issued hoodie he’s wearing, hands it to her as he walks past her to lock up the front door. “You can stay here while I close, just don’t tell Hux if you ever meet him. He’ll flip his shit.”

 

“I thought I was practically on the payroll.”

 

“Practically,” he replies, emphasizing the word. “The devil is in the details, babe.”

 

_Don’t I know it_. “Did Phasma tell you I left you something in your cubby?” Ben nods, and starts counting money from the register. “Did you have a chance to listen?” She watches as he rights all the money so it’s even, gives it a bit of a shuffle like it’s a deck of cards, and zips it up in a safety deposit bag, placing it in a small safe below the counter, then types something into the computer. Rey’s able to tell by his mood, same as always it seems, that he hasn’t listened to her record yet, or if he did, then he’s more dense than she thought he was.

 

“Not yet, it was goddamn busy all evening long and—” They both look up and around the shop as they hear sirens going off outside. “Shit.”

 

“What’s that?” Reys asks, and immediately both their phones start buzzing as well.

 

“Tornado sirens,” Kylo replies nonchalantly, rolling his eyes. “Come on, to the staff room we go.”

 

“Staff room?”

 

“Yea, only place without glass or windows, inside room. Ya know, what you’re supposed to do when there’s a tornado warning.” A moment later, there’s an electrical buzzing noise. The overhead lights flicker and turn off, and a few emergency lights come to life.

 

 Rey looks at him, panic written across her face, then back outside, and _it’s just rain, we’ll be fine, won’t we? I could just walk home and… won’t those damn sirens shut off already?_

 

Her head whips back to him when she feels his hand on her elbow, guiding her into the back of the store. “We’ll be fine. I promise. There’s even snacks in there. Good snacks.”

 

Once they’re in the staff room and Ben shuts the door, they sit back against the front of the couch, legs straight in front underneath the IKEA table. Any other time Rey would find it hilarious how much further his legs could reach than hers, but tonight is not one of those times. Just like the rest of the buildings in this part of the city, the record store building is at least a hundred years old, and Rey can hear the wind and storm outside raging. It doesn’t help that there’s only one emergency light in the small staff room, and the EXIT sign above the door is making the whole room an unsettling shade of red. She tries to focus on drying herself off a bit with the hoodie, noticing her teeth have started to chatter.

 

He stands and pulls the record player off the top of a filing cabinet, setting it up on the floor between them. “I’ve got an idea. Why don’t we at least listen to something while we wait? Take your mind off what’s going on out there. I still haven’t gotten to listen to your recommendation for me.”

 

_Here it is. The moment of my life when I die of embarrassment_. She thinks about grabbing the record from his hands and running away, out into the storm. _Is dying in a tornado better than dying of embarrassment?_ Despite what Finn and Poe had said last night, that it seemed so obvious he liked her, she’s suddenly feeling a lot less confident than she was when she dropped off the record in his cubby earlier today. Add to that the fact that she’s cold and wet, and she’s pretty much stuck with Ben in a dark room with some storm-caused mood lighting, and _well, it’s less than optimal_ , she thinks.

 

“Maybe that’s not the greatest –“

 

“Oh, come on. What else are we supposed to do in here? And besides, what’s the worst that could happen?”

 

_You laugh at my awful declaration of my feelings. The tornado hits the store. I can think of more_.

 

_Oh, fuck it_. She thinks about Finn and Poe, how genuinely happy they are together, how both of them lament not acting on their feelings sooner, and Rey realizes she doesn’t want that to be her.

 

“Here, I’ll do it,” she says. She pulls her legs under her to kneel, reaching up to grab the record from him and setting it on the spindle. Rey takes a deep breath, holding the needle in mid-air before letting it drop onto the record. When she settles back down against the couch, Kylo’s arm goes around her, excruciatingly close to her but not completely resting on her. She makes every attempt to ignore it, which is impossible to do. “Hope you like it.”

 

She knows from the hundred or so times she’s listened to the song that she’s only got around 45 seconds until the intro and the first verse is done, until everything surrounding their relationship changes, one way or another.

 

_I don't care if Monday's blue_

_Tuesday's grey and Wednesday too_

_Thursday I don't care about you_

_It's Friday I'm in love_

 

The song plays for about a half minute more before she feels the hand behind her brushing her shoulder, and Kylo turns to face her.

 

“Rey… is this—?” he tries to start, swallowing before he continues. “Is this really how you feel?”

 

Rey nods her agreement. “Yea,” she breathes out after a second. “I mean, not _love_ , I guess… we only just met but…” With that, she stops herself before she starts to ramble.

 

“I’m… surprised…. God, I don’t even know what to say.”

 

“We’ve been doing this for weeks now, and I just thought that… the records you suggested and everything… You know what? Nevermind. Just forget I did this.” She stands abruptly, runs a hand through her wet hair to shake it out, forgetting that she’d braided it earlier in the day, and only manages to mess up the braids, which just serves to piss her off even more. She groans, mostly at herself, and starts to take off the hoodie he’d given her.

 

“Where are you going?” he asks, confused.

 

“It’s not obvious? I’m leaving. The tornado is preferable to your rejection.”

 

“Rey—”

 

“So I’ll just leave,” she says, cutting off whatever he was going to say. He’s standing now, they’re so close still because they’re in a glorified _fucking_ closet, and before she’d secretly loved his height, that he towered over her, but now… now it’s just making her feel like a small, stupid girl with an unrequited crush. “I guess I’ll only come to the store when Phasma is working, she’s pretty nice anyways, or maybe Mitaka… or I’ll buy new records at Urban Outfitters or something…”

 

“Rey.” He says it stronger now, but she ignores him. Instead, she folds the hoodie in half and places it on top of the filing cabinet where the record player had been.

 

“Thank you for all the suggestions, Ben. I’m sorry I had to mess this all up because I thought they meant something.” _Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry_. “Maybe I’ll see you around?” It’s a question, definitely a question.

 

She’s got her hand on the door handle and makes an uncharacteristic high-pitched squeak when his hand slams against the door, the noise loud enough to be heard over the raging storm outside, and it prevents her from being able to open the door even a crack.

 

“Rey,” he says again, quieter this time, since he is right next to her. “C’mon, babe, look at me.” She doesn’t turn of her own accord, but when he puts his hands on her shoulders she lets him turn her around. It’s not like there’s anywhere else she can go boxed in like that. He’s bent over to her height, hair falling in his face, but when he looks up she thinks she sees… nervousness? And he’s close, so close.

 

“You’re wrong. It did… _does_ mean something. Most certainly.” The meaning of what he’s saying dawns on her. She gives him a smile and he takes his hand off the door, placing it on her shoulder then tracing it down her arm to lace their hands together. A shiver runs through her, and she’s not certain if it’s from the contact or from still being a bit wet from the rain, or both. “I’ve always been pretty shit at this, actually. I really should’ve been more straightforward instead of just hoping you’d figure it out.”

 

“Well, be straightforward with me now.” She shrugs and gives his hand a squeeze, and apparently that’s the only push he needs because a confession rushes out of his mouth like the words have been stuck there for years.

 

“I like you, a lot, actually. You’re gorgeous, and funny, and I love that you’re a little slow to pick up on sarcasm. I’m certain I could outlast the storm listing out everything, but fuck, Rey, I want nothing more than to kiss you right now.”

 

She thinks she must look stunned. Eyes wide and staring, she hadn’t expected this much of a confession. The most she’d had in the past were notes passed in the halls between trigonometry and world history, saying that Sam heard that Chris’ brother got told by Shelly last week at Pizza Castle that he liked her.

 

It feels like the world is in slow motion as leans in, closing the gap between them. _Finally_ , Rey thinks when his lips meet hers, trying not to smile when she tastes cherry chapstick on him. He’s surprisingly tentative at first, full lips and soft kisses, as if he’s unaware of how much she wants this. Rey sighs and leans more into him, taking her hands out of his and pushing them into his hair, and his free hands go to her hips immediately, grabbing hold and rubbing circles into skin that’s still damp from the rain. She pulls away, saying that she thinks it’s a good idea if they stop.

 

“And why’s that?” he asks, already having moved his attentions to her neck.

 

“Because,” she breathes out, taking both his hands in hers, “I know I’m gonna get carried away, and I don’t want to when our only choice of furniture is _that_ couch.”

 

He raises an eyebrow at her, then laughs. “Believe me, that couch is used to it,” Ben says, mostly just to see the disgusted look he knows she’ll make, and she does, scrunching her face up in dissatisfaction. “Wanna just listen to some more music and wait out the storm? I’ll pick another song for you.”

 

She nods in agreement. “Did I also hear you say something about snacks earlier?” He says the best are in Mitaka’s cubby and she goes to grab some, then joins him back on the floor in front of the couch with two bags of fancy imported gummy bears. His arm goes around her immediately and there’s no hesitation like before as she cuddles her way into his left side, taking the headphone he offers to her.

 

A few chords in and Rey recognizes the song, starting to laugh at she shifts back a bit to look up at him. He raises an eyebrow in question. “Wonderwall?” she asks. “Even I know this song… but isn’t it, I dunno, a little cheesy?”

 

“Pfft, you like it.”

 

“I like you,” Rey instantly shoots back, then returns to the spot she’d made for herself a moment ago.

 

“Good enough for me,” she hears him mumble, watching him flip through his music library for whatever song would be next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got around to finishing up the last chapter! Thanks everyone for reading and your kudos & comments.


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